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"He began by telling 'that he had given Dr. Parr a dressing, who had taken him for an Irish bogtrotter,' &c. &c. Now I, who know Dr. Parr, and who know (not by experience for I never should have presumed so far as to contend with him - but by hearing him with others, and of others) that it is not so easy a matter to 'dress him,' thought Mr. Edgeworth an assertor of what was not true. He could not have stood before Parr an instant. For the rest, he seemed intelligent, vehement, vivacious, and full of life. He bids fair for a hundred years.

"He was not much admired in London, and I remember a 'ryghte merrie' and conceited jest which was rife among the gallants of the day, - viz. a paper had been presented for the recall of Mrs. Siddons to the stage, (she having lately taken leave, to the loss of ages, for nothing ever was, or can be, like her,) to which all men had been called to subscribe. Whereupon, Thomas Moore, of profane and poetical memory, did propose that a similar paper should be subscribed and circumscribed recall of Mr. Edgeworth to Ireland.'* "The fact was every body cared more about her. She was a nice little unassuming Jeanie Deans'-looking body,' as we Scotch say - and, if not handsome, certainly not ill-looking. Her conversation was as quiet as herself. One would never

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* In this, I rather think he was misinformed; whatever merit there may be in the jest, I have not, as far as I can recollect, the slightest claim to it.

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have guessed she could write her name; whereas her father talked, not as if he could write nothing else, but as if nothing else was worth writing.

"As for Mrs. Edgeworth, I forget except that I think she was the youngest of the party. Altogether, they were an excellent cage of the kind; and succeeded for two months, till the landing of Madame de Staël.

"To turn from them to their works, I admire them; but they excite no feeling, and they leave no love except for some Irish steward or postilion. However, the impression of intellect and prudence is profound and may be useful.

"January 20. 1821. "Rode-fired pistols. Read from Grimm's Correspondence. Dined-went out-heard music-returned-wrote a letter to the Lord Chamberlain to request him to prevent the theatres from representing the Doge, which the Italian papers say that they are going to act. This is pretty work-what! without asking my consent, and even in opposition. to it!

January 21. 1821.

"Fine, clear frosty day-that is to say, an Italian frost, for their winters hardly get beyond snow; for which reason nobody knows how to skate (or skait) -a Dutch and English accomplishment. Rode out, as usual, and fired pistols. Good shooting-broke four common, and rather small, bottles, in four shots, at fourteen paces, with a common pair of pistols and indifferent powder. Almost as good wafering or shooting considering the difference of powder and

pistols as when, in 1809, 1810, 1811, 1812, 1813, 1814, it was my luck to split walking-sticks, wafers, half-crowns, shillings, and even the eye of a walkingstick, at twelve paces, with a single bullet- and all by eye and calculation; for my hand is not steady, and apt to change with the very weather. To the prowess which I here note, Joe Manton and others can bear testimony! for the former taught, and the latter has seen me do, these feats.

"Dined visited came home read. Remarked on an anecdote in Grimm's Correspondence, which says that Regnard et la plupart des poëtes comiques étaient gens bilieux et mélancoliques; et que M. de Voltaire, qui est très gai, n'a jamais fait que des tragedies-et que la comedie gaie est le seul genre où il n'ait point réussi. C'est que celui qui rit et celui qui fait rire sont deux hommes fort différens.' Vol. VI.

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"At this moment I feel as bilious as the best comic writer of them all, (even as Regnard himself, the next to Molière, who has written some of the best comedies in any language, and who is supposed to have committed suicide,) and am not in spirits to continue my proposed tragedy of Sardanapalus, which I have, for some days, ceased to compose.

"To-morrow is my birth-day-that is to say, at twelve o' the clock, midnight, i. e. in twelve minutes, I shall have completed thirty and three years of age!!! and I go to my bed with a heaviness of heart at having lived so long, and to so little purpose.

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"It is three minutes past twelve.

VOL. V.

G

'Tis the

middle of night by the castle clock,' and I am now

thirty-three!

"Eheu, fugaces, Posthume, Posthume,

Labuntur anni; ·

but I don't regret them so much for what I have done, as for what I might have done.

"Through life's road, so dim and dirty,

I have dragged to three-and-thirty.

What have these years left to me?

Nothing except thirty-three.

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"Fine day. Read-rode-fired pistols, and returned. Dined-read. Went out at eight-made the usual visit. Heard of nothing but war, cry is still, They come.' The Cari. seem to have no plan-nothing fixed among themselves, how, when, or what to do. In that case, they will make nothing of this project, so often postponed, and never put in action.

"Came home, and gave some necessary orders, in case of circumstances requiring a change of place. I shall act according to what may seem proper, when I hear decidedly what the Barbarians mean to do. At present, they are building a bridge of boats over the Po, which looks very warlike. A few days will probably show. I think of retiring towards Ancona, nearer the northern frontier; that is to say, if Teresa and her father are obliged to retire, which is most likely, as all the family are Liberals. If not, I shall stay. But my movements will depend upon the lady's wishes—for myself, it is much the same.

"I am somewhat puzzled what to do with my little daughter, and my effects, which are of some quantity and value,—and neither of them do in the seat of war, where I think of going. But there is an elderly lady who will take charge of her, and T. says that the Marchese C. will undertake to hold the chattels in safe keeping. Half the city are getting their affairs in marching trim. A pretty Carnival! The blackguards might as well have waited till Lent.

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